Four Days
by DearBuddha
Summary: Movieverse. Tony and Pepper, four days later.


She's pretty sure this week is never going to end

She's pretty sure this week is never going to end. The never-ending phone calls, the growing numbers of emails in her inbox, and the reporters waiting outside the gates of Tony Stark's Malibu mansion have all amounted to one unbelievable migraine for Pepper Potts. And it's only Tuesday.

It's been four days since Tony Stark revealed his metallic alter-ego. Four days of avoiding journalists. Four days of soaring stock prices and clamoring business associates (and really, who wouldn't want to invest in a company headed by a real-life superhero?). Four days of Tony reassuring her that he's doing the right thing. That accountability and responsibility are the things he has been lacking. That Afghanistan opened his eyes, and he's got no choice but to make a difference.

She's never been more tired or frustrated by her job, but she's also never been prouder of her boss. She has said as much, and she smiles in recollection at the shy, intimate smile he gave her return. Yes, it's been one hell of a week, but she has to admit, to see Tony Stark like this, it's worth it.

Except, of course, when he's too busy saving the world to remember that he's still the president of a company, and he's missed five of the eight appointments she's arranged today. Her cellphone screams at her again, and she answers it in annoyance.

"Pepper Potts."

The man on the other line is equally terse.

"Miss Potts, this is David Simmons, executive assistant to Michael Sloane, of Evans and Sloane, Incorporated. We had a business lunch this afternoon with Mr. Star-"

"Of course, Mr. Simmons. I remember. Unfortunately, Mr. Stark is currently under the weather, but he's very much looking forward to meeting with Mr. Sloane. Let's reschedule for next Monday, shall we? I'll arrange it with Mr. Stark and be in touch."

She hangs up without waiting for an affirmation. She glares at the clock, surprised at the late hour. She listens for the sound of tinkering coming from Mr. Stark's workshop, and despite his demand that she "leave him alone for a couple of hours", she wonders if he's eaten, or even showered today. She moves from her desk. It takes her another ten minutes before she's descending the stairs to the workshop, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and the day's paper and a plate balanced on the other.

He's yet to replace the panes of glass enclosing the workspace, and though it has been swept away and cleaned, she can still hear little nuggets clinking under the sole of her stiletto. She steps into the room, surprised to find him asleep in front of the television. A metal arm rests across his lap, circuits exposed and powerless, impotent. She sets the plate and coffee down on a bench, and watches him in repose.

He's aged, though only trained eyes would see the tired lines that have gathered at the corners of his eyes. Nine years, and Pepper has only just now noticed the gray creeping in among the thick stalks of brown hair. Three months since Afghanistan, and Tony Stark wears the evidence of his captivity like a badge. She's relieved to see the dark bags are no longer there, but the faint glow of the arc reactor, hidden beneath a white wife-beater, reminds her that this man is haunted.

She sits beside him, gently so as not to wake him, and softly pushes the hair from his forehead. Stubborn as it is, it falls back into place, and she smiles ruefully as she's reminded that he's still a bit of the rebel billionaire she's known for so long. Her eyes fall back upon the red arm in his lap, and she pauses momentarily to admire it. The result of its creator's brilliance, she knows that this small piece of metal either holds the key to peace, or it's master's demise. It's a beautiful, evil thing, and Pepper wonders if she'll ever be able to accept it.

She reaches out to run her fingertip across the cold surface of its palm. It's cold, probably weighs too much. Ego, she thinks, knowing Tony probably prides himself on the ability to shoulder a hundred pound suit of armor. A modern day knight.

She senses a change in Tony's breathing, and looks up to see his open eyes watching her hand as it runs investigation. She starts and pulls her hand away, but he remains still, a small, boyish smile on his face. He speaks, breaking the silence of the room.

"Pretty neat, huh? Drives the girls crazy, or so they're saying on the news."

He meets her eyes and lifts it from his lap, holding it closer to her so she can get a better look. She looks away, the illusion lost now that he's caught her staring. She stands, gestures towards the work bench.

"I brought you some food." She nods at his disheveled appearance. "Though it looks like I should have brought you a change of clothes, too."

Tony stands, and they're face to face, but Pepper knows it it's only because of the four inch heels she's wearing. Shoes or no, lately he's had a habit of making her feel smaller than she is.

"That would have been nice", he acknowledges. "You could help me the shower, too, you know. Wash my back, keep the suds outta my eye..." He trails off, and moves towards the sandwich lying on the plate. She thinks she hears his stomach growl as he takes a bite.

She tries not to think of a naked Tony Stark, but seeing as she's caught him in the altogether more times than she cares to count, it's pretty much impossible. So instead she gets defensive.

"Mr. Stark, the next time you decide to blow off an important business meeting in favor of TMZ, could you please give me notice first? I'm running out of excuses for you, and you don't pay me enough to be so creative."

He chews thoughtfully on the sandwich, his dark brows arched over darker eyes. "So, you're saying you need a raise? 'Cause I can do that. But only for you, 'cause you're so damned good at lying for me." She starts to argue, but he waves at her. "Ok. How does an extra 10,000 a month sound?"

Her jaw drops, her brain running a million miles a second. "Mr. Stark, this is not about money! I-"

He interrupts her again. "Ok, fine. 15,000 a month, just for dealing with an eccentric bastard like me." He pauses, and she can see his eyes shift. The mask falls away, and suddenly he's just Tony, and she's just Pepper, and he's about to be honest with her, and for some reason, that scares her. "Of course, even I couldn't pay you what you're really worth."

She feels the argument die on her lips, and she hopes the little jump in her stomach is the result of nerves, and nothing more. It's oddly quiet between them now.

"Mr. Stark", she begins.

"Tony."

She smiles. "Tony."

He smiles back. "I have a question for you."

She waits for him to ask.

His eyes shift a little, and then the playboy is back. "Can I still get that shower?"

She groans, turns on her heels and moves towards the stairs. His voice calls out to her.

"Ok, no shower! I can deal with a sponge bath…"


End file.
